America's Fucking Socks
by PJCOLE
Summary: America and Germany are living together and it is really nice. If only America would stop leaving his socks in the bathroom. (This is pure PWP fluff)


**A/N: I don't know why this was written. Also, I give a big sorry to anyone reading anything of mine. I have just now returned from falling off the face of the earth. College sucks yada yada, anyways here is something random and fluffy. Please don't hate me. I will try and write more usual stuff soon.**

Germany sat reading the paper and occasionally taking a swig of beer, as America yelled angrily at the TV. Something about Steve needing to 'man up and just kiss her', if Germany had heard right. It probably didn't matter much so he just continued to read with the movie and America's frustrated and/or pleased comments a background noise. It was nice like this, being alone in a room with someone else. It somehow helped him concentrate when his lover would make this much noise. Sometimes he would just wait for America to get home to do his work, because the silence was just too hard to think in anymore.

It was then that Germany looked up and noticed the time. That late already! The laundry really needed to be started if he hoped to have it all done in time to hang it up to dry. It does no good to leave it out over night, but he wouldn't stay up waiting for it to dry.

"I'm going to start on the laundry. Did you get everything in the hamper?" Germany asked as he folded his paper up and placed in on the stand next to him.

"Huh?" America asked, trying to peel his eyes from the TV, but not succeeding in the slightest. "Oh, uh yeah I think so." Waving Germany off, he continued his staring contest with the TV. Hasn't he seen that move before? Germany thought, but let it pass, deciding to sigh and roll his eyes instead of bothering with a pointless question. Even if the more energetic of the two had seen a movie 300 times, he somehow managed to give each view his full overly dedicated attention. If Germany was entirely honest with himself, he'd admit that was one of the things he really loved about his idiot.

He left the room just as America fell backwards in a fit a limbs, reacting to some loud explosion or something. He really did get way to into these things.

The hamper seemed decently full, so Germany naively assumed everything would be in it. Sorting it out in whites and colors, made him realize the error of his ways though. The color stack had everything he knew it should, America's strangely designed T-shirts and oddly colorful underwear and Germany's dark workout clothes. No, there was no issue in that pile at all. The issue was in the pile of whites. All of Germany's white undershirts, socks and underwear where there. America's white button-ups and sorts where there. The things missing honestly did not surprise Germany at all. Not a single one of the other man's right socks could be found. Not a single one.

Germany couldn't help but sigh and rub a hand slowly down his face. By this point he really needed to be use to this, expect it and plan for it. It's not like he didn't know where they would be. He knew exactly where that annoying boyfriend of his had left them, the same god damn place he always did.

Maybe Germany should stop entertaining the hope that this odd habit of America's would stop. He should really just assume that it will never end and act accordingly. But, really, is it honestly too much to ask? IS it really that hard to not fucking take just one of his socks off in the bathroom every single damn day?! Apparently, or Germany wouldn't need to make this oh to familiar trek to the downstairs bathroom on every single laundry day.

Sure enough, laid out in odd places all over the bathroom America liked to use the most, were the missing socks.

Germany sighed again, and cleaned them all up, ready to just put them in the pile and start the load. An idea hit him, though. Why was he just letting the idiot get away with this? Why did he always go clean them up? Honestly, why on earth did he even entertain America' odd whim?

Well whatever the reason was, it certainly was enough to make Germany deal with it today. Oh no, he was going to let the American know just how not okay this little habit of his was. With a smile Germany went off the get back at his boyfriend for being such an odd creature.

XXX

The next morning, Germany got up early like usual, went on his run and decided to make America some breakfast while he was up.

Half way through the second batch of bacon, Germany heard the America's footsteps, signifying the other man had finally decided to grace the day with his presence. With a smile Germany continued cooking.

"Dude, have you seen my socks?" America called down, just as Germany finished laying out both their plates. He tried to stifle his laugh when he answered, "Where they in the hamper?"

"Yeah, they..." The sound of footsteps on the stares, made it even harder to not laugh. America slid into the kitchen wearing a scowl, a white T-shirt, his Hulk underwear and, just as expected, one white sock on his right foot. "You seriously didn't wash them?"

"Were they in the hamper?" He answered with a smirk.

"Oh, come on! You know I'm forgetful." America said throwing his hand up. "Where are they, I can't just wear one sock man, I have a meeting today!" He said as if that would somehow make all the missing socks appear clean and folded on a silver platter.

Germany just laughed and sat down to breakfast. "Sit down and eat."

America huffed in annoyance before noticing the plate of eggs and bacon waiting for him. He glared at Germany before sitting down and stabbing the eggs with an excessive amount of anger. "You just made this so I wouldn't hate you forever."

Germany just smiled and continued eating, enjoying the dark cloud hanging over his boyfriend a little more than he should.

When America had almost finished chewing all his food violently, Germany decided the dummy had learned his lesson.

"I did wash them, they're folded and sitting where you left them."

"Seriously?" America asked, deadpanning. Germany just smiled and got up to wash his and America's plates.

"Are you 7?" He asked with a roll of the eyes before getting up and kissing Germany quickly as he handed off his plate. "You're lucky you're cute or this shit would get old." With that he rushed out to get his other sock on.

"I could say the same about you." Germany sighed and shook his head, washing the dishes with a smile on his face. Maybe he'd gotten the American to realize the hamper was where dirty clothes went, maybe he hadn't. Either way, he'd still be in a good mood as long as long as America was there to do stupid little things like that.

XXX

The next laundry day, Germany just sighed and went to get the 6 missing socks from the bathroom.

**A/N: Please comment!**


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